


Mischtletoe

by SuperfriendlyFox



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Getting Together, Humor, Identity Reveal, Pre-Relationship, SuperCorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperfriendlyFox/pseuds/SuperfriendlyFox
Summary: Lena’s made a fool of herself at the CatCo holiday party, and now her friendship with Kara is over.A kiss will do that.





	Mischtletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpicyCheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/gifts).



> For my Secret Santa, SpicyCheese. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The prompts were... 
> 
> Angst, unrequited pining, pain, just something heart wrenching...and doesn’t matter if it’s resolved the end or not. :) & Something pre-relationship, funny, cute, awkward, flirty, fluff. I love firsts for them. 
> 
> ...so I decided to try to combine them.

 

 

Lena’s no stranger to waking up to a hangover.

It’s not what makes her groan, what makes her want to close her eyes and never again reopen them. It’s not what fills her with a sense of despair so far unparalleled in her sad, pathetic existence.

This absence of hope, of a shred of belief that life can ever again bring her any happiness, even surpasses the dark cloud she’d lived under ever since her father died, her beloved brother went insane, and her mother . . . Well, ever since her mother became her mother.

Until Kara Danvers came into her life, bringing with her the warmth of the sun, in her wake little birds singing with such innocent joy, music Lena had never noticed before. Or at least, not since her real mother had died.

It’s what she did last night that makes her wish, not for the first time, that she had vanished into that invisible realm along with her.

Shameful memories keep making their way, unwelcome, into her waking consciousness, as if her brain wants her to know exactly how much of an embarrassment she’d been to the both of them. It surely hopes she’ll lock herself away in her office and never again set foot outside it, never again entertain a false hope, never again create such a scene. Perhaps it’s even hoping she’ll agree to switch brains with Frankenstein’s monster, or Inspector Clouseau, or anyone with a track record of less bumbling behavior.

The worst part isn’t even that everyone at CatCo had witnessed the humiliating spectacle of her drunken wishful thinking. Hitting on your employee, in front of every single one of your other employees—except for Margery and Stan in Advertising, who had already left the conference room, in search of condoms probably—was bad enough, a ding on her reputation that all on its own had probably wiped away more than a year’s worth of the goodwill she’d worked so hard to build.

It isn’t even that Kara had rejected her. Lena could live with that. She’d had a lot of practice with rejection. And she’d never truly believed Kara’s longing looks and lipe bites meant that she felt anything more than friendship for Lena. They most likely meant Kara was hungry and in desperate need of elevating her blood sugar.

The worst part is that after last night, Lena’s lost her best friend.

Not that Kara had said as much, or had spoken to her in any way other than kindly.

“Misch Danversch,” Lena had slurred, the spiked punch having raced gleefully to her brain, excited to see what mischief it could create in the hour or so that remained of CatCo’s holiday party. “You look jusch divine in thosch reindeer antlersch. I could eat you with a schpoon and never be schatiated.” Then she’d hiccuped.

Kara had gently taken her by the arm and led her away, saying, “Miss Luthor—”

(Lena had insisted they address each other formally at work, so no one would suspect Kara of receiving preferential treatment and resent her. Not that anyone suspects that _now._ )

“Miss Luthor,” she’d said, with a kind tone, “I think you’ve accidentally imbibed from Miss Teschmacher’s homemade stash.”

Lena had looked over to the specific punch bowl she’d drunk from, and noticed for the first time the sign someone had evidently accidentally knocked down, in her assistant’s handwriting—

 

**NO LIGHTWEIGHTS! HEE HEE**

 

If Lena had just let it go at that, then maybe her employees would have chalked up her indiscretion to a normal embarrassing flub, caused by Eve’s Prohibition-era-strength bathtub gin. She certainly hadn’t been Eve’s first victim. Maybe Lena’s behavior wouldn’t have eclipsed Margery and Stan’s. Margery had at least warned everyone before taking off her top.

But Drunk Lena couldn’t let it go at that. The Christmas music had “inspired” her.

“Oh, ho, the mischtletoe, hung were you can schee—” she’d bleated, as Kara humored her and allowed her to drag her toward the gingerbread cookies. Kara, who was much schtronger— _Fuck, Lena_ —stronger than her. “Schomebody waitsch for you, kisch her onsch for me . . .”

And then she’d turned around, and kissed her.

 

*

 

Lena doesn’t remember the taxi ride, though how else would they have gotten here? Her driver’s log shows he hadn’t been summoned and had eventually gone home. Kara certainly hadn’t driven them. Lena’s not sure if Kara even knows _how_ to drive. She’s always taken the bus everywhere, or hitched a ride with her sister. Lena does remember the sensation of wind on her face. She must have hung her head out the cab window like a dog. A dog that had been allowed to drink unsupervised.

Kara had taken off Lena’s shoes . . . and settled the sheets over her . . . and quickly pressed her lips against Lena’s cheek. A final, kind farewell to their friendship.

Then she’d shut the door softly. And that was that.

 

*

 

 _All of CatCo has signed non-disclosure agreements, as well as all of L-Corp,_ Jess texts her back, as Lena continues to burrow under the covers, hoping to find a portal to an alternate universe where no one has ever heard of her. _And I’m sure no one blames you, Miss Luthor. If they think badly of anyone, it’ll be that Teschmacher woman._

Jess had worked alongside Eve before, and was not impressed.

Thank God it’s Saturday. Lena has a full two days before she has to show her face in the office again.

A full two days before she has to read Kara’s letter of resignation.

Lena finally crawls out of bed, water and aspirin greeting her on the nightstand. She can’t help but smile. Even when she’s been a giant pill, Kara’s always so caring and thoughtful.

She divests herself of what she’ll forever think of as the Dress of Dishonor, and spends eons in the shower, willing the water to wash away all vestiges of last night’s horror show. Finally feeling a little better, she pulls on a pair of comfy sweatpants, and shrugs into a Midvale High sweatshirt Kara had forgotten some movie nights ago and still hadn’t reported missing. It’s a little snug, but still smells like Kara, and Lena allows herself to sink into what little comfort she can get.

Flopping down on the couch with her laptop, she fully intends to immerse herself in work this weekend, and put all thoughts of the drunken debacle out of her mind . . .

A light tapping at the balcony door rouses her from a lovely dream of them kissing, but for real this time, with no alcoholic assistance whatsoever.

Supergirl peers at her through the glass, looking a bit concerned.

Lena quickly gets up—a bit too quickly, as she winces and puts a hand to her still-pounding head—and makes her way to the balcony door, determinedly _not_ staring at Supergirl’s attractive biceps. She slides the door open and steps aside, and the heroine smiles at her and enters.

“Supergirl. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”

The heroine’s gaze falls to Lena’s chest, which for some strange reason thrills her— _It’s Kara I love, Kara_ —until Supergirl says, with a slight smirk, “Nice sweatshirt.”

Lena’s cheeks heat up. “It’s Kara’s—Kara Danvers’. She forgot it here and I haven’t, er, remembered to give it back yet.”

Supergirl smiles a little wider, and makes her way to the couch. At Lena’s nod, she sits. “Funny, I was just having—” she checks the clock “—brunch with Kara Danvers.”

Brunch. Sure. With those two bottomless pits . . . (Lena’s been in the DEO. She’s seen Supergirl eat.) . . . they probably started at breakfast, and finally started to feel satiated after lunch.

“She sent me to check on you,” Supergirl says, once more looking a bit worried.

Lena blinks in astonishment. Kara telling the heroine all about her friendship-faux pas doesn’t sound like Kara at all.

“She just wanted to make sure you’re feeling better.”

Lena sighs, and sits. “She didn’t want to come check on me herself?” At Supergirl’s flinch, she quickly adds, “I don’t blame her. Not after how horribly I acted.”

“I . . . I don’t think she thought you acted wrong in any way?” Supergirl says, an odd look on her face. “Not that I know anything about it, of course. It’s not like Kara Danvers talks to people about you. I mean—” she squeaks, a high-pitched noise Lena’s sure she’s used to hearing, not making “—I don’t mean she’s ashamed in any way for people to know how close you are? I just mean she would never talk behind your back, or tell people things you wouldn’t want others to know.”

Lena bounces a little on the couch in her desire to defend Kara’s name. “Oh believe me, Supergirl, I know how kind and honorable Kara is. I wish I could say the same about myself. I acted terribly last night. I—” She breaks off, the memories she’d sloughed off earlier in the tub now back with a vengeance.

Supergirl gently touches her on the knee, before blushing and pulling her hand back. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s all right.” Lena reaches for her glass of water, and takes a sip, while Supergirl waits patiently. “It might help me feel better to talk about it. Although, earlier I texted my assistant about it, but she refused to blame me for what happened. Strangely I wound up feeling even worse about myself afterward. That I should inspire such blind devotion.”

That makes Supergirl laugh, though she hurriedly stops. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor. I didn’t mean to laugh at that.”

Lena waves a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. I hope someday I’ll look back and laugh over this as well. Although . . .” She takes a deep breath. “I doubt it. I . . . I got drunk, and kissed my best friend without her permission, and I hate myself for it. I wouldn’t blame her for hating me as well. I don’t expect her to want to remain friends, or even remain in my employ, to be honest.”

“I really, really doubt she feels that way.” Supergirl rubs the back of her neck with one hand, and fidgets with the hem of her skirt with the other. “From the way she talked of you when she asked me to make sure you were okay, I _know_ she still cares about you. Just as much.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe I disrespected her that way.” Lena blinks back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Supergirl. Kara’s the only one she’s ever felt comfortable being vulnerable with. And maybe, if Supergirl’s correct, maybe she hasn’t lost that.

Supergirl politely looks away, pretending to be absorbed in examining the fabric of the couch. “Kara mentioned someone named Eve. I suspect she had a hand in what happened last night?”

Lena sighs. Even the thought of last night’s punch is making her head ache. “I didn’t see the sign marking Eve’s homemade punch. It went straight to my head, completely obliterating my inhibitions.”

“Sounds just as dangerous as red kryptonite.” Supergirl grins and makes eye contact again. “Perhaps I should run her in to the authorities?”

“Honestly, she’s only a danger at work parties. Otherwise she’s sweet and dependable. One of my most valued employees.” Please let Supergirl never share that information with Jess. Jess might threaten to quit in anger at being lumped in with someone she considers unworthy, and Lena’s already paying her the equivalent of three assistants’ salaries.

“All right then, she gets a pass.” Supergirl stands up with another smile, and strikes her trademarked authoritative pose. “At least, for now.”

Lena gets up as well, though more slowly this time, to show Supergirl out, but the heroine makes no move to leave.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask . . .” At Lena’s signal to go ahead, she continues, “Kara’s reaction . . . um, what did you make of it? I mean, did it give you any idea of how she felt about it?”

“Oh my.” Lena’s gaze falls to the floor. “Well, it wasn’t one of complete revulsion, I’m quite grateful for that. Although she was certainly taken off guard. And . . . it seemed she was a bit afraid. Which I certainly don’t blame her for. She was probably scared I’d do it again. I’m surprised she drove me home, and tucked me in no less.” She looks back up, surprised at _herself_ for projecting her disgust with herself onto her best friend, who has never been anything but good to her. “Actually, I’m _not_ surprised. It was totally in character for her to do so, even though I didn’t deserve it.”

“Oh, Miss Luthor.” Supergirl actually looks very much like Kara with that kind expression. Lena’s not sure why she’s never noticed that before. “I’m sure that’s not true. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d actually wanted to kiss you back.”

Lena stares into Supergirl’s eyes, and the heroine actually blushes.

“But maybe, there were extenuating circumstances? Like, the fact you were drunk and she didn’t want to take advantage of you. Maybe because of how public the situation was? Maybe . . . maybe there are other things going on with her that made her think it wouldn’t be fair to you, to kiss you.”

Supergirl’s gazing so intently into her eyes that Lena’s stomach flips. Oh God, the attraction she’s always been disciplined about suppressing now makes itself known in a super way. Once more she chooses to study the hardwood floor instead of meeting those baby blues.

“I . . . I don’t think that’s true,” she finally manages to get out. “I . . . I think . . .” She hesitates . . . But too many seconds of silence pass and she lifts her gaze, to see Supergirl holding a finger to one ear and listening intently.

“I’m sorry, Miss Luthor. Duty calls.” Supergirl turns and makes her way out onto the balcony, with Lena following behind.

The heroine wheels around once more, and almost bumps into Lena, their noses almost booping. Supergirl actually giggles, her cheeks as red as her cape, while Lena’s heart pounds a frantic beat.

“I think . . . I think, Miss Luthor, that maybe you should sit down and talk with her.”

She gives Lena an almost plaintive look, then turns again—and misses Lena’s thoughtful nod. Misses how her hand hesitantly reaches out as if on its own, wanting to . . . touch? To shake? To _something_ . . .

Lena can only stare up silently as Supergirl launches into the air, feeling there’s been something left unsaid, something written in her heart she hasn’t managed to crack open yet.

 

*

 

A text comes in from Kara— _So happy to hear you’re feeling better!_ —with her usual string of emojis, including the normal red hearts, which goes a long way toward making Lena truly feel better.

Still, she’s not looking forward to this awkward conversation she knows they need to have.

On Monday Kara’s busy all day, rushing out, her phone to her ear, chasing story after story, although shooting Lena kind looks every time she wanders into view.

Lena’s sure one of these stories regards the strange criminal who’s already robbed a string of banks in National City, utilizing no weapons whatsoever. Somehow, she’s faced no resistance. _“Everyone just cleared out of the way and let her take whatever she wanted,”_ reports a news correspondent as Lena strides by Mr. Olsen’s office, his screens all tuned to the same channel.

Luckily everyone seems focused on their work, apparently not even remembering Lena’s live-action presentation on how not to sexually harass your work colleagues.

Finally Kara seems to have settled in at her desk for the time being, talking on her cell still, and Lena takes a deep breath, as well as tentative steps toward her.

“Kara,” she starts, but just then her friend jumps up, giving her an apologetic look.

“Lena! Hey! How are you feeling? Sorry I didn’t check in with you earlier today, it’s been a madhouse what with that weirdo on the loose. Um, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Then with a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek, she’s gone—into the elevator, then out of sight.

Lena stands stock still, her hand to her cheek. They _are_ still friends, she can feel it.

Just then there’s a terrific crash, and another, and another—and immediately alarms blare. Lena drops her hand and hurries to make sure her employees are dropping down under their desks for shelter.

Members of her security team rush in, and quickly determine the elevator to be the source of the commotion. Lena starts to organize an evacuation of the building, her heart pounding, worrying over Kara. Lena prays to a god she doesn’t really believe in that Kara made it downstairs before the explosions went off.

Fretting that CatCo has been the target of a terrorist attack, or just another assault by her dear old brother, she launches into the evacuation protocols—

When her head of security calls, and asks her to meet him in his office.

What he shows her on the security cameras stills her heart.

She suppresses some more—she’s an expert at suppressing—all the while thanking her lucky stars she’d replaced CatCo’s former head of security—a very nice man—with her own, someone who’d come up through the Luthor ranks and whom she trusts completely. He instantly offers—not even waiting to be asked—to replace today’s elevator and roof footage with video from a normal day.

Next she makes sure her employees are okay, and allows anyone who needs to go home for their mental health to do so. A few denizens of the newsroom, notably Eve, have knowing looks on their faces that tell Lena they’ve suspected for much longer than today.

Lena holds out as long as she’s able, then finally succumbs to the shock, calling her driver to take her home, getting under the sheets and sobbing uncontrollably.

 

*

 

After she’s bankrupted her tear ducts, and her stomach has staged a hostile takeover, she finally gets out of bed. She opens up a new bottle of scotch and turns on the news.

The only story apparently getting any coverage today is that of the mysterious criminal who goes without weapons. She’d hit National City Savings & Loan, and battled it out with Supergirl in the parking garage. She’d gotten away, while Sup—

While _Kara._

While Kara had been filmed experiencing what seemed to be a panic attack, and was whisked away to protective custody.

Over and over, Lena stares at the news footage. Of the smirking, blonde villain, jeering, “Fear is a powerful tool.” Of Kara, Lena’s best friend, struggling to get to her feet, whimpering, “What are you doing to me?” Gasping for breath, staring, in obvious distress. Shrinking back in terror. Hyperventilating on the ground. Lena aches, wanting to reach through the screen and hold her friend. Shame fills her, that she’s spent the last few hours feeling sorry for herself, and for what? Because her best friend hadn’t confided in her that she was Supergirl? Meanwhile Kara had been out protecting the city, and getting hurt in the process.

She makes her decision. Gets to her feet. Doesn’t even bother changing out of her work clothes, except for sliding on a pair of comfortable sneakers. Not caring that she looks like an 80s-era Working Girl (except for the pouffy hair), she makes her way down to the lobby, texting her driver.

Suppression, schuppression. Lena can process her hurt and move on, and be the friend Kara needs.

It’s not long before she’s knocking on Kara’s door. But there’s no answer. No, of course not.  Kara wouldn’t be at home right now. She must be at the DEO, being cared for. By the people who care for her. By her sister. Lena cringes. She can’t believe she’d never put two and two together. It’s not that she’s angry at Kara anymore. She just can’t believe what a disgrace to geniuses she’d turned out to be.

Well. Lena can wait. But she might as well go out first and get some comforts with which to greet Kara.

 

*

 

She’s sitting on the floor of Kara’s hallway when her friend comes up the stairs, looking a bit spent. But her face breaks into a smile upon seeing her.

Lena struggles to get to her feet—not an easy undertaking when one is wearing a pencil skirt—but Kara extends her arms and helps her.

“Hey! This is a pleas—uh, a nice, a really nice surprise. What are you doing here, Lena? And why are you sitting on the floor and not on a real seat? They’re totally comfy.”

She points to one of the two red, plush chairs sitting against the wall, facing each other at an angle, that look strangely like two red sets of lips, about to kiss.

Lena shakes her head to get that image out of her mind. “I’ve been an awful friend. I don’t deserve comfiness.”

Kara laughs and pulls her in for a hug, then unlocks her door, sneaking a peek at the bags of food Lena picks up off the floor. “Does my nose deceive me, or are those potstickers?”

“They are.” Lena nods. “And ice cream.”

“I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite,” Kara says with a giggle, unwittingly piercing Lena’s heart.

She immediately makes her way to the kitchen to put the ice cream in Kara’s freezer. Gazing around at the loft, it’s—decorated. Yes. For Kara’s own Christmas Eve party, tonight. The invitation for which has been lying on Lena’s nightstand for a month now. She can’t believe she’d forgotten.

Kara removes her pastel cardigan, takes a snowman sweater out of a drawer, and pulls it over her shirt. She turns and appraises Lena in her pencil skirt and blouse. “You’re a little overdressed. But I guess it’ll have to do.”

“Kara—” She needs to apologize to her right now, before her smirky sister and even smirkier friends come over, and Lena won’t be able to find a moment alone with Kara. She shortens the space between them, stopping only a few feet away. “About Friday night . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara closes the distance between them, stopping only inches away. She bites down on her bottom lip, and gazes at Lena’s longingly. “I’m so glad you kissed me. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages, but I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.”

And Lena bursts out . . . she doesn’t even know. Laughing? Crying? A sloppy mix of both.

Kara pulls her into her arms, and holds her, until her shoulders stop heaving. 

Lena slowly pulls away, just enough to lean in and kiss—

“Wait!”

Kara lets go of her and takes Lena’s hand, and pulls her toward . . . Her bed? My, does Kara move fast.

But Kara just gently sits her down on the edge of the bed, and takes hold of Lena’s hands.

“I want to kiss you, Lena. So much. But it’s not fair for us to start anything unless you first know I’m—”

“Supergirl. Yes.” Lena removes one of her hands, to reach up and tuck away the hair that’s fallen into Kara’s wide eyes. “I think everyone in the newsroom knows. Even after the efforts of my head of security.”

“The elevator.” Kara sighs. “I only did that because it was an emergency.”

Lena caresses Kara’s cheek. “I saw the videotape. You were having a panic attack. Just as you did at the Savings & Loan, fighting that stupid, smirky villain.”

Kara lets out a little laugh, then gingerly leans her forehead against Lena’s. “You don’t need to worry about that. The DEO’s on it. They’re working on a physic dampener that will take away her powers. So I can fight her on even ground.”

Lena closes her eyes, and lets out what she supposes is the official first of many worried sighs to come. “I’m always going to worry about you, Kara. You might as well know that now.”

Even though she can’t see Kara’s face, she can feel her smile.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t—”

“Shh, Kara. I don’t need you to be sorry. I just need you to be safe.”

Lena squeezes her a little tighter, then pulls away, just enough to—

“Wait!”

Lena opens her eyes, as Kara gets up and moves to the nightstand. She opens the drawer, and pulls out—

“Mistletoe?” Lena stares blankly at the green and white sprig Kara holds in her hands.

“I believe you’ll find it’s actually pronounced mischtletoe.” Kara gives her a sly wink. “I saved it from the party.”

“So you can tease me for the rest of our days?” Lena could live with that.

“So I can be reminded that sometimes it takes a well-meaning but mischievous friend to get things going.” Kara floats up to the ceiling, and attaches the mistletoe so it hangs from a panel. Over the bed. Kara _does_ move fast.  

She slowly lowers herself down, into Lena’s waiting arms.

They kiss.

Their first is really their second. But the second time is magical.

And, Lena can say now, so was the first.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
